


Vows

by BranwellBronte



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Sweet, Tender Sex, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 10:56:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BranwellBronte/pseuds/BranwellBronte
Summary: The early weeks of Catelyn's and Ned's marriage, from the difficult beginning to the friendship to the loving romance.





	Vows

            “Are you comfortable?

            “Yes.”

            “Is there anything I can-”

            “ _No_.” _The_ _Seven help me. Too sharp. Try again_. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

            “Alright. You’ll tell me if there’s anything I ca-”

            “Yes. I will.”

            A pause, a beat longer than a pause. Two pauses. “I hope you sleep well, Catelyn.”

            “Thank you. You as well.” _Say his name. Don’t think. Just say it._ “Eddard.”

            “Thank you.”

            More than a few pauses, and then as swiftly as a wind picking up, they each rolled onto opposite sides, facing away from each other in the gods-be-good enormous bed. Cat had taken one of her ladies aside that morning. “When it’s time to go to bed, I want to be next to the fire. I’m from the Riverlands and I’m still not used to the cold here yet.”

            “Yes, my Lady. If you’d like me to, I’ll run a bed-warming pan over the sheets for you before you lay down.”

            _No. I don’t want the bed itself to be warm._ He’s _not here._  “That’s very kind. But I will be fine with the fire on my side.”

“As you please, my Lady.” The maid had bowed. Catelyn had meant to thank her by name but she knew if she opened her mouth, the names of one of her old maids from Riverrun would come out of her mouth unbidden. _My favorite, Minisa, probably_. The new maid looked nothing like Cat’s former maid, but Minisa Whent Tully had been visible in all of Cat’s thoughts today. As the maids had gently slid the teeth of the combs into Cat’s hair to secure her bridal veil, her mother was there with her. _Do I look like the bride you always imagined I’d be, Mother?_

 _You’re more beautiful than in all the dreams I ever had of this day_ , she imagined her mother replying. _And I dreamt of them frequently. And not just because your father wrote down a list of potential grooms for you when you were still in the cradle. But because when I see my daughter in her gown and veil, it means she’s starting her new life, a different kind of happy life she was always meant to have, and knowing she’s in the good hands of her groom will keep me smiling even as my tears fall when I miss you every day._

The combs fastened into her hair, the maids had gently lifted the veil to cover her face to make sure that the combs held it securely. “Let me fix it just a bit,” Cat had said, sliding her hand under the veil and pretending to adjust it as she smeared a tear onto her thumb and away from her eye. She’d quickly dropped her hand and the maids pulled back the veil behind her head again.

“So beautiful, my Lady.”

“Everyone will lose their breath when they see you, my Lady!”

_I don’t care. I don’t want to feel beautiful for anyone but Brandon._

Footsteps had gently approached and a soft knock came once on the door. Both maids had jumped as if screeching ravens had flapped into the room.

“It’s Uncle, Cat,” came the gruff but always gentle voice from behind the door.

Cat nearly did cry openly that time. “Come in! Yes, he can come in,” she’d said to the wide-eyed maids, with more annoyance in her voice than she’d intended. “He can come in,” she’d nearly whispered in an attempt at softness. “I’ll call you back in a moment.”

The maids had still eyed the door warily as they left it and Brynden Tully had entered. He’d left his customary head-to-toe black armor off for the occasion, but his black fish pin still fastened his blue and red cape. “I can’t stay long. Everyone is on their way to the Godswood and Hoster bit me to shreds when I said I wanted to be alone with my little Cat before he even had the chance to see you in your wedding clothes. But I can bite back and I’ve never _quite_ done as he’s told me to, have I? Not even in my old age. Here.” A handkerchief pressed into Cat’s hands before she even knew it. “Hide this in your dress somewhere when I leave. It’s mine, but only because your mother gave it to me. She struggled to think of a gift for my name day one year and she gave me twenty handkerchiefs for a laugh. I lost some of them, which I’ve never forgiven myself for. But here is one for you to keep. Oh Cat, you’ll put your veil all askew and your bachelor uncle who knows nothing of bridal wear won’t know how to fix it,” he’d said even as he wrapped his arms around Cat as she’d thrown her own around his neck.

“How will I live up here all by myself, Uncle?” Cat had pressed her face into his cape, feeling her tears soak the fabric.

“I won’t go on about what a good man he is, although he’s a very good man from all I’ve been able to gauge, because I know you don’t want to hear that right now. You’ve steel in your soul, Cat, you can weather any winter, even with the snow falling in your heart right now. You are from the river and the river’s power never falters. Feel that power in your blood, in every bit of salt that runs through it. And write me. Every day, if you need to.” He’d taken Cat’s face in his weathered hands and gently rubbed the tears away with his fingertips. “What’s the second word in our motto?”

Cat sniffed but managed a small smile. “Duty.”

“It’s our duty to keep each other close. I’ll carve a wreath for you as soon as I’m home. Will you carve one for me soon, too?”

“Yes.” Cat had swiped her cheeks. “That would make me happy.”

“Do what makes you happy, Cat. Cat, I _mean_ that. Make yourself _happy_ here. Even at the expense of _honor_.”

“At the expense of honor? Uncle, what do you me-”

Rapping at the door. “Lady Catelyn. We’re sorry to interrupt you, but we still need to dab rouge on your cheeks, my Lady.”

Brynden had leaned in and kissed Cat firmly on both cheeks. “Glad I got to you before the rouge. Tastes awful, probably. I’d be making faces at you all during the ceremony.”

Cat had hiccupped a small laugh. She’d leaned up and kissed her uncle before he whispered, “Little Cat, remember the strength in your blood,” in her ear before he was out the door and the maids were gently spreading red powder along her cheekbones.

Had she wiped it off before getting into bed tonight? She couldn’t remember removing it, only having placed her mother’s handkerchief in a drawer of her new bureau when Eddard had his back turned for a moment. She would have slept with it in her hand if she didn’t think it would have made her look like a child refusing to let go of a toy. But she’d been absently touching her face frequently in the last few months, a reflexive habit to check for any tears she hadn’t noticed had slipped from her eyes. Her father had gently caught her wrist several times and pulled it away. “He’s a good man, Cat. If he’d been the eldest, he would have been my first choice. I’m very happy with him.”

 _Make yourself_ happy _here,_ she thought as the fingers of the fire reached and lowered and spread from side to side in the grate. _Even at the expense of_ honor _._ She felt Eddard shift slightly behind her, then heard his quiet breathing as he settled.

_Oh, Uncle. He always knows how to comfort me. He always has._

She’s defied honor tonight. She’d not lain with her new husband on their wedding night. She fixed a loose strap of her nightgown as she thought, _He dispensed with honor too. I have to give him that. Well, it was the least he could have done._

***

_“It’s all we can do, right now, I’m afraid. We’ll have to wait until our wedding night to do the rest.”_

_“I don’t care.” Cat had turned in Brandon’s arms and pulled his arm over his chest as he’d rolled to press his front to her back. “This feels so good already.”_

_“Then I’m happy.” He’d moved his face closer to her on the pillow and kissed the back of her hair, which he’d pulled out of its braid himself. She’d shaken her head to loosen her it, whipping it from side to side. Brandon had laughed, almost giggled like a boy, as he’d taken her hand and they’d laid down on her bed in her childhood room. They’d shut the door softly but firmly on Minisa, whom Cat knew wouldn’t say a word to Hoster. Cat had laced her fingers through Brandon’s and breathed in, sweetness lifting her heart._

“He was calm today, my Lord. None of the fussiness he’s shown the past few days. We finally tamed him. You’ll be safe riding him into batt- into town, we’re sure of it.”

Eddard touched his mouth with a napkin. “That’s good to hear, Jory. Thank you. I might not ride into town today, though.” He glanced quickly at Cat and then away. “I still have many ravens to answer,” he said quietly.

“Of course, my Lord.” Jory bowed and left the great hall. Cat forked her breakfast around on her plate. She was hungry, but had always been shy eating around strange men, even Brandon when she’d first met him. Cat scraped her fork just a little too loudly and cringed at the squeaking noise. Eddard put down his napkin and looked over to her. “I’ll be in my study for a few hours, Catelyn. But if you’d like to go for a walk afterwards…or…” He blinked several times as Cat swallowed drily. “Or maybe you’d rather rest. I’ll make sure wine is sent to you and your ladies.”

Cat stopped herself from biting her lip just in time. _What is my duty in this moment? To give him a chance? I’ll never really know if he’s worth it unless I hold myself together and talk to him._ She swallowed again, although there was nothing in her mouth. “I would like to rest for awhile, but afterwards I will be ready to take a walk.” She tried for a quick look at Eddard. She considered herself fortunate that he didn’t look as much like Brandon as he did his missing sister, Lyanna. _They could have been twins,_ one of her new ladies had told her. It was Benjen who supposedly looked more like Brandon, but Benjen was far away at the Wall before she ever met him. She felt a pang of guilt that she felt glad he was in a more miserably cold place than she was, and that he had no choice but to forego marrying. She needn’t see his face. And he’d been spared an arranged marriage, something she never could have been.

Eddard was watching her carefully, but he formed his mouth into a small smile. It was forced, Cat could tell, but he held it for just the right amount of time before turning back to his plate. “Then I will see you in a few hours. Enjoy your time with your ladies.”

“Thank you.” She continued moving her food around until Eddard finished his own, stood up from the bench, and gave her a bow, his dark hair swinging past his cheeks. Then when his back was turned as he walked up the stairs and away, Cat forked her breakfast into her mouth as fast as modesty allowed. Then she pushed back from the bench so quickly that she nearly tripped on the hem of her cloak. _Gods take these things_. The air was cool but not quite cold enough to merit a cloak over her dress if she’d still been at Riverrun. But this was how Northern ladies dressed, and so she’d let her ladies wrap it around her shoulders that morning. Eddard had been awake before her, but had lingered until she’d woken to the sight of him fiddling with the clasp of his own fur cloak in the mirror of his bureau. As she’d sat up in bed, he’d turned just a little too quickly, cloak swishing around his legs. The smallest smile and a decent job of warmth in his eyes.

“Catelyn. Good morning. When you’re ready, we will go down for breakfast.” He’d waited in another room down the hall while Cat had washed her face and her ladies had dressed her and combed her hair. Then she’d opened the door and Eddard had been there. He’d carefully raised his arm at the elbow and she’d placed her hand on top of his and they’d descended the stairs, husband and wife.

Cat plucked her cloak up and her ladies trailed her to the room that had been prepared especially for her before her arrival. She knew that Eddard had added one touch, because Brandon had described the room to her in detail: a rocking chair with numerous soft cushions padding the back, a wide table for her to craft her prayer wreaths on, small figurines of the Seven on the mantlepiece. They were all there. But the branches in a basket on the wide table were most definitely new. They looked fresh, newly cut, a few tiny leaves still clinging to them, their color faded but their shapes not withered. Eddard had had these cut recently, probably yesterday by the looks of them. Cat stared at the basket for a moment before sitting at the table, her maids taking places in the corners and pulling out sewing. Next to the basket were a paring knife and a skein of thin string. The knife was smaller than the ones she usually used at home and she doubted the thin string would hold together the heavy wreaths she preferred to make. But Eddard had tried. Something shifted in her heart and she realized she was genuinely touched by the gesture.

She didn’t know what to do with the unfamiliar feeling towards Eddard. She remembered every time Brandon had moved her, had swept down in the grass and plucked a flower and tucked it behind her ear or reached for her hand and kissed it right in the middle of conversation. Guilt spread its fingers in her stomach for a moment. Was she betraying him by feeling fond of something Eddard had done for her? Or would he have wanted this? _He would have wanted this. He loved Eddard so much. “Ned,” he called him. They were so close. He’d want me to be happy, even without him._ She blinked a mist of tears away and lifted a branch from the basket, running her fingers gently over the rough patches she’d strip from it with the knife in a moment. _Prayers for him_. _And…yes. A “thank you” to Eddard._

_***_

            “I know it’s cool today. Does your cloak fit you well? I’ll have another made if you don’t feel it keeps you warm enough.”

            “It fits very well. Thank you for asking.”

            “I’m happy to.” They walked side by side out of the yard and into the grass. They were close enough to appear like the amicable newlyweds they were supposed to be, but Cat noticed that Eddard kept his pace steady in a straight line so as to not stray too near to her. _How much of it is out of respect for me? Does he feel strange around me too? Or would be take my arm if I gave him even the smallest signal, step just one pace closer to him?_

            She remembered walking with Brandon by the river at home. _Ned is…well, to tell the truth, he’s been in my shadow his whole life. I love him dearly. But I feel for him sometimes. You couldn’t find a fault with his honor or his kindness. But I’m the darling of the family and I always will be. I can’t lie about that_.

            _It’s not your fault you’re the eldest. You couldn’t have chosen that._

_You’re right. But I hope you’ll still take a shine to him when you meet him. I know it would make him happy, to have a sister-in-law who is sweet as honey to everyone who crosses her path._

_You flatter me, you’ll make me blush._

_I’ll kiss your cheeks so no one will see._

“There are many paths you can take. You don’t even need to pick a path, to be honest. You can walk wherever you please. The grounds seem large, but new servants always tell me that they seem smaller with every walk you take. I hope you and your ladies will find a path you like sometime.”

            “That would be very pleasant. I will walk a different path next time.”

            “I hope you will enjoy it.”

            Eddard steered them far away from the Godswood where they’d been married last night. During the ceremony, Cat had stood as stiff as the Weirwood tree that made her so nervous. The auburn leaves had waved up and down constantly as the late afternoon wind blew. She’d never seen leaves of such a color. They seemed unnatural. The whole tree did. It was so pale that it looked unhealthy. She’d kept her eyes on the cloth the septon had been holding as he read out the marriage speech before Cat and Eddard’s hands had been bound and they’d recited their vows. Eddard’s hands didn’t feel warm, didn’t feel like skin against hers. They were simply objects that she couldn’t entangle herself from as the septon said a prayer that the Old Gods would also bless the marriage. Cat imagined her father, standing somewhere behind her, looking pained at this, but hiding it well. As Hoster had kissed her goodbye, along with Edmure and Lysa, when the wedding feast was nearing its end at midnight, he’d whispered fiercely in her ear. _You’re a Stark now, and you’ll act like one, but you won’t shame yourself by giving into their ridiculous old gods. Do you promise?_

 _Yes, Father._ She thought of the figures of the Seven in her room. Brandon had described them, but Eddard was the one who would have ordered them kept there.

            “How did you find your sitting room? Do you require anything else? I will have it brought to you.”

            “It is very comfortable. I am fine for now.”

            “I am glad. I hope you’ll let me know if you need anything else.”

            _I need so much_. She felt tears sting behind her eyes. _Gods. It’s still morning and tears already. I need so much more than I will get. I need to feel at home here without Brandon._ Before she knew it, the tears had dropped and splashed the bodice of her dress. Eddard was walking in pace with her with his arms behind his back, his eyes straight ahead. Could she wipe her face without him noticing?

            She had to try before the next tears growing in her eyes wobbled out. She slowly lifted a fingertip and gathered a tear onto it. Eddard must have sensed the movement and he turned his head to her immediately. _Gods help me. There’s nothing he can say to make me feel better_.

            But he didn’t say anything as she pulled a handkerchief out of a pocket and dabbed her eyes with it. He’d turned his head back as swiftly as he’d moved it the first time. Without meaning to, Cat glanced at his eyes. They were staring straight ahead again, but a cast of pain shadowed them. She swiped her face one last time before pushing the handkerchief back into her pocket. Her heart was constricting. She needed to leave, return to her rooms, get away.

            Before she could open her mouth, Eddard said, “If it wouldn’t be too much to ask, I’d like to sit with you for a moment. There are a few rocks only a minute from here. Some of them are very smooth. I sit there sometimes when I need to think.” He turned fully to face her. “I understand if you’d prefer to return to the castle, though.”

            Cat chanced a look at his eyes again and her heart tripped to see genuine pain in them. She couldn’t see her own face but she had a feeling that Eddard’s eyes mirrored her own. _His heart is broken too_. _I forgot about the ravens he sent earlier. They were all responses to the condolences for Brandon and their father. I’ve been hiding in my own sorrow. I haven’t given enough thought to his own_. _It must still be so fresh._ She managed a nod and he nodded gently back. He gestured ahead of them and they walked for the minute he’d promised.

            The rocks were bigger than she’d expected, close together and looking like a crumbled ruin of a small model of Winterfell. But there was a smooth, bench-like stone just as Eddard had described. He waited until she had sat down at one end before sitting at the other side. _Even in his grief, he is gallant_. _To a fault, as Brandon would say_. Cat fixed her cloak around her body and twisted her hands together in her lap. Once she’d settled, she glanced over at Eddard. To her shock, he had his face in both his hands and he was rocking back and forth, his shoulders shaking.

            Alarm to the point of panic jolted Cat and she had her hand clasped on his shoulder before she remembered thinking to make the gesture. This alarmed her even more but she felt trapped in her effort of comfort. She couldn’t take her hand away as he sobbed silently. He took one hand away from his face and frantically patted it down the front of his tunic. Cat guessed he was looking for a handkerchief and she used her other hand to pull a fresh one from her dress. She held it out to him and it was a few moments before he took it. He gulped as he took his other hand from his face before burying it again in the handkerchief. Cat watched, powerlessness feeling like a stone in her stomach. _I’m not a stone, though. How powerless am I really?_ She moved herself closer to him on the bench, keeping one hand clasped on his shoulder and folding the other on the crook on his arm.

            Eddard made breathy, sighing noises as he lowered the handkerchief from his face. He cheeks were bright red and he bit his lip as he stared into his lap, breathing uneven, the handkerchief balled in one fist. He whispered something Cat couldn’t make out. “I’m sorry?”

            “Yes,” he said softly.

            “No, I’m sorry, what did you say just now?”

            “I said that I was sorry.”

            A pang beat uneasily in Cat’s stomach. _Honorable to a fault. He’s been hiding this so carefully._ She gently ran her hand over his forearm. “You have no reason to be.”

            He huffed a small laugh that wasn’t of a piece with his face. “What a husband I am to you on the first full day of our marriage. Breaking down and crying in front of my wife. I hope my father can’t see me right now. And I don’t usually wish that.”

            “He’d not judge you. How could he?” She didn’t think about the words as she said them. For once, she spoke to Eddard without speaking carefully. _He’s not so hard to talk to as I thought._ “You just spent hours thanking people who all told you how sorry they were about your losses. How could they be as sorrowful as you, though?”

            “They all mean well.” Eddard breathed shakily.

            “That’s true, but you were speaking of paths, weren’t you? No one is walking your path but you. Benjen, he’s on a path too, I’m sure. But you are here alone at Winterfell.”

            “Alone.” Eddard’s voice cracked. “Yes, I’m alone. And you’re alone. We’re walking and sitting together and yet we’re both alone. And you are coping with a loss I know not how to relieve you of. I was never meant to play this role for you. I was never meant to take his place. Catelyn, I should have said these things this sooner. I didn’t give you a warm welcome yesterday and earlier today. I’m sorry. Truly. I’m sorry.”

            Cat shook her head. “I wasn’t very warm to you either. I’m not upset. Don’t be sorry.”

            “I am, though. I have a standard I try to live by, and I failed. As soon as I saw you yesterday in your wedding clothes, I should have gotten on one knee and kissed your hand, rather than just bowed my head. I should have given you a tour of the castle and grounds yesterday too. Or I should have offered. I should have pledged myself to your happiness without the septon having to give me the words. I only saw you as my bride, this new, necessary figure in my life. You were only a figure, though. I didn’t look at you as a complete woman who has her own mind and soul and who’s grieving a loss, of a person and of her home. I know Brandon is my loss too, yes, but in a different way. He should be here with you. And he’d not be pleased with me that I’ve isolated myself from you. When you were still at Riverrun, I sent you no letters. The day you came here, I greeted you in the morning and then left you alone for the day before the ceremony. I didn’t even speak to you at the feast, did I? I didn’t speak with you until bed. The walk we went on earlier…that wasn’t my idea. It’s a tradition at Winterfell, for new husbands to walk their wives to the bench and hold their hands and talk sweet nothings to them. I did it to uphold tradition. I haven’t been _here_ , for you, Catelyn.” He put his hand over his heart and swallowed. “I’m worried I’ve ruined this before it’s hardly started. Because he was meant to be here, not me.”

            Cat opened her mouth again but faltered. It was the first time he’d alluded to her betrothal to Brandon in the time she’d known him, however short. She tried to think of something comforting. _You don’t have to be him. I couldn’t ask it of you. It’s a loss that I don’t think anyone could help me cope with. We can’t help it that we both feel alone._

            Was it all true, though? If they couldn’t talk plainly to each other, then how would they ever feel united in any way? She had to try to forge a bond with him. It might never feel the same as her bond with Brandon. But without a bond, she knew they’d be walking in different directions every day for the rest of their lives. What kind of marriage was that? What kind of life? She had to try.

            Cat kept her hands on Eddard’s arm. “You haven’t ruined anything. And you don’t have to be Lord Eddard with me,” she said softly. “You must be so tired of choosing your words carefully. Will you talk to me like I’m your wife, and I’ll talk to you like you’re my husband? It will…it will be very difficult at first. I know. But I would like to try. Would you?”

            Eddard let two more tears track down his cheeks before dabbing at them with the cloth. When he’d balled it in his fist again, he looked at Cat. His whole face was blotchy. _Don’t ever cry,_ she remembered her father saying firmly to her brother Edmure once, after a girl had rejected a bouquet of flowers Edmure had picked for her. _Don’t ever let it show in your face. Men don’t cry. They put their troubles behind them and then they move forward._

            Cat frowned, then grimaced. _That was no advice to live by. You need to cry the tears out, or they’ll weigh your heart down so fast that it won’t beat in rhythm anymore._

            Eddard swallowed but didn’t turn from her. “Yes,” he said, his voice cracking. But he didn’t clear his throat. “Yes, I would like to talk to you like you’re my wife. I’d like you to be my wife. I know we’re already married, but it’s only a formality right now. I’d like to be a real husband to you. Care for you and spend time with you and help you when you need it. Share your journey through life. Walk a path with you. Would you want that, too?”

            Cat smiled, a little wobbly, but a smile all the same. _He’d want me to be happy. And I know he’d want me to make my own choice in this. And I want to be happy._

            “Yes,” she whispered. “I want to walk with you, too.”

***

            They walked through every room in Winterfell together. “Don’t mind us,” Eddard told the servants who looked at them curiously and asked them repeatedly if they needed anything. “We don’t need anything. I’d only like Lady Catelyn to be more familiar with her new home.”

            Cat tucked her arm gently in Eddard’s as they walked up and down staircases, moving higher into the castle. He showed her every tower, every bridge, every window where the best views of the rising and setting sun were. “That is something we could do sometime,” he said as they watched the sun throw a shine over the wavering grass fields. “We can climb up here to watch the sun set before dinner. I would do that as a boy. My father never understood it. ‘It’s the same view every day,’ he’d say. I’d try to make him watch more closely. It’s never quite the same every day. The colors change a little differently each time.”

            “I’d like to watch with you. I remember sunsets over the water at Riverrun. Edmure and Lysa and I would sit with our Uncle Brynden and watch all the colors reflected on the water.”

            “That sounds beautiful.”

            “It was.”

            “Do you feel homesick right now, Catelyn?” He turned from the window and there was a look in his eyes close to desperation. “I wish there were a river near here. I know you’re not fond of Godswood, of the pool there. If there were only a river-”

            _He’s very thoughtful. I have to admit I like that about him._ “I’ll still watch the sunsets with you. They will be beautiful no matter the landscape. But...,” She tilted her head, nodding slightly. “I won’t lie. I do…I do miss home when I think of the water. Maybe I’ll always miss it in some way. But I will be at home here, too. Not in a day. But in time. I know there will be comfort here,” she added softly. She linked her arm closer to his.

            He gave her a small smile that finally touched the corners of his eyes. “I’ll never blame you if you miss your old home. Everything here, though, is yours too.”

            “I will take it, then.”

            He laughed softly at this. “I like this attitude.”

            “Then you’ll have no trouble getting used to it, for now that you’ve given me the idea, I mean to run with it.” She gave a small laugh and realized with a surprising contentedness that it matched the sound of his laugh.

            He touched her hand gently. “Run with it, then.”

***

            “I like this one.” Cat gripped the edge of the wall of the bridge and looked down at the yard. It was bustling with servants crossing from one end to the other, carrying baskets of eggs and cuts of meat to the kitchens. In one corner, a smith was sharpening knives on a whetstone. In another, sounds of soothing voices from the stable accompanied various _neighs_ and whickerings from the horses. “I can see everything and everyone from here. It makes me feel of a piece with the castle.”

            Eddard gestured his hand over the edge. “This will be your bridge, then. Catelyn’s Walk. I’ll have it carved on the wall.”

            Cat laughed. _Maybe I’ll get used to laughing at things he says._ “You’ll do no such thing. I don’t need to flaunt it to know it’s mine.” She turned her head to him as the wind blew her hair across her face. “If it’s mine.”

            “It is yours. I won’t be able to walk across it without remembering that I’m only a guest here.”

            She laughed again and strands of hair blew into her mouth this time. She picked them out with her fingers, making a face. “I should have tied it back.”

            “I can fetch one of your maids.”

            “No, it’s alright. I’ll do it myself.” She turned to an alcove behind the bridge, raising her arms to her head as she went. Eddard followed her and she dropped her arms. An idea came to her. _I didn’t even have to try for one that time_. “You could help me.”

            Eddard raised his eyebrows but he didn’t frown. “Me?”

            “Yes. Fix my hair for me. We’re on my bridge, after all. You might as well do as I ask.”

            He smiled, eyes crinkling with mirth. “Alright. Would you like it braided?”

            Cat’s own smile turned into an expression of surprise and she lowered her arms. “Could you do that?”

            “Yes. I used to braid Lyanna’s hair all the time.” His eyes flicked downward for a moment and Cat’s stomach twisted in regret.

“It’s alright, actually, I can do-”

            “A loose braid or a tight one?” Eddard had raised his eyes again. There was still a touch of pain in them, but an earnestness was rising in them too. “I know how to do both.”

            Cat watched him for a moment. _He’s still trying to walk the path with me, despite every reminder of Lyanna. Of having no news of her whereabouts. Reminders of the pain must be around him all the time. But he’s still walking with me._  “A tight braid,” she said quietly. “Because it’s so windy.”

            “You’ll have it in no time at all.” Eddard gently put his hands on her shoulders and she turned around. He gathered her hair in his hands, separated it, and, as true as his words, he was tying the ends of it in less than half a minute. He’d moved the sections of her hair so gently that she’d hardly felt them being woven together. It was his fingers softly brushing the back of her neck that ran a tingle down her skin. Until this moment, neither of them had touched any part of each other but their arms and hands. The intimacy of him touching her hair and brushing her neck softly put a beat in her heart that pumped harder than usual. She turned around and looked at him and the beat pumped again. _Affection?_

            “How did I do?” Eddard asked, nodding his chin at her hands that were now touching her hair.

            Cat ran her fingers up and down the braid. He’d woven it so well that she couldn’t tell the difference between this braid and any of those her maids had put together. “It’s perfect,” she said. There was more wonder in her voice than she could remember hearing in it for months. “Ned, it’s-” Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Oh. No, I didn’t say that. No, I’m sorry-”

            He shook his head quickly. “Don’t be sorry. You can call me that.”

            “I won’t, if it’s too soon. I know Brandon called you that but-”

            “He did, but all of my family does. Even Jory and the rest of the household call me that when we’re speaking unofficially. I’d actually like it if you called me that.” He fiddled with his hands, not seeming to know where to put them now. “But only if you’d like t-.”

            “I would.” She laid her braid behind her back. “I’ll call you ‘Ned’ if you call me ‘Cat.’ I would like to share this with you.” _I said it even without thinking. My thoughts are starting to flow naturally when I’m around him. Something about him told me it was safe for me to call him that._

            He had stopped moving his hands. “Cat,” he said simply. “I like it.

            She smiled without trying. “I like it too, Ned.”

***

            The next week, more ravens flew into the rookery but the trickle of condolences stopped and the news of troop movements from Robert Baratheon arrived at an almost frantic pace. Ned wrote back just as frantically, asking if any possibilities of Lyanna’s whereabouts had turned up. The answer was always the same: “If I needed you, I’d call for you. The Lord of Winterfell needs to stay at Winterfell. I look weaker otherwise. If there were news of her, I’d have told you already, Ned. You know I would have.”

Cat brought her basket of wood into Ned’s study and carved prayer wreaths as Ned answered missive after missive. After he’d tied the scroll to the raven’s foot and let it flap out the window, Cat would lay a wreath on Ned’s desk. Ned would take it and put it in his lap and move his fingers over the wood and carvings and ribbons Cat had tied in. “Each one is special,” she told him. “No two are alike because no two mean the same thing. Look, this one. One side wishes Robert fortune, and the other wishes you safety if you need to leave and go to him.” She’d swallowed as subtly as she could. _If you go to war_ were the words she never said, but she knew Ned heard them anyway.

            They began to eat dinner side by side rather than across from each other. They’d talk about the walk they’d taken that day, to the stone bench and then further up the hills, Cat leading and reaching a hand back for Ned to take as he followed her. Ned let her explore without guiding her these days, and Cat relished the freedom he seemed to understand intuitively that she needed. She mapped out the fields and hills in her mind until she could run ahead of Ned and not get lost. Although she missed the river and swimming, she learned to love running, and was soon racing Ned as fast as she’d raced her siblings at Riverrun. “Never let me win,” she told him firmly. “Just let me run. I don’t care that you grew up running here. When you beat me to the target, it will only light a bigger fire under me.” Ned had given her an exaggerated bow and she laughed, clasping her hands. _Like a girl,_ she thought. _I feel as free as I did when I was a girl. I never thought I’d ever say that about my future marriage when I was a girl. I’m not a girl at Riverrun anymore. But home is bigger than a swatch of land now. More and more every day, home is a person…_

They started to tell each other about their dreams from the night before. Cat would always go first. “I’m in the river, but then I’m on top of it, and there are trees on top too. I try to climb one of them but then I slip and I hang on one of the branches until I wake up.”

            “Are you scared?”

            “Not really, actually. It’s kind of fun. It’s like a game. Don’t fall in. Keep my arms strong enough. Silly. And you, Ned?”

            “I don’t remember much this time, but there was a rabbit I remember following as a boy. I followed it into the woods – those ones in that direction, you see them – and then it talked to me and told me to stop following it because following without asking is rude and my tutors would scold me if they knew how poor my manners were.”

            “A rabbit who teaches you a lesson! That’s a funny dream.” _Even in his sleep, he worries about not being honorable enough._

They watched the sunsets like they’d said they would. Sometimes Cat would lay her hand on Ned’s and sometimes he’d lay his hand on hers. They’d watch in silence as colors brightened and then faded, but it wasn’t a heavy silence. It was comfortable enough for Cat to feel calm when Ned put his hand on hers. “I never learned the constellations well. But there’s the bear, always next to the maiden fair.”

            “I see him. There’s that one bright star between his eyes and his mouth. I like to think it’s his nose.”

            Ned had laughed at that. “I feel like no one except you would have come up with that, Cat.”

            “Only me? Really?”

            “Yes. We take the stars very seriously up here, being so far North that so many are visible that the South can’t see. So stargazing is a serious hobby, lots of maps and drawings. Not a lot of lighthearted talk about them. But you found the humor, and now I’ll never look at the bear again without laughing at his bright nose.”

              Cat had gently patted his hand. _I’m glad I gave him a laugh. He needs humor in his life, gods know. To think that I bring any to it…I’d never have thought…_

            One day she won a race up a hill and she twirled in her long dress and cloak in victory and Ned caught her in mid-twirl and she pretended to struggle out of his arms. Without meaning to, she struggled so hard that he did lose hold of her and he fell hard on his hands in the grass. Through a stream of Cat’s “I’m sorry”s, he only turned his palms up and smiled. “Make a wreath just for my hands,” he said and she pushed him and he fell onto his back and they heaved laughter and she caught his face in her hands as natural as if they’d been walking together and they kissed, breaths still sharp but the movements of their mouths soft. He placed his lips so gently on hers that her blood ran warmer than she could remember in so long. She moved without thinking to touch the back of his head. The moments stretched and she felt him hesitate, ready to break away from her at her first signal.

            But she held the kiss and so he kept his lips to hers. His touch was so soft, the slight roughness of the stubble a little exciting. It felt good.

            _It feels right._

When they finally did drift their mouths away from each other, the movement felt smooth and even. Ned swallowed and smiled at the ground before looking up at her. “That was my first.”

            “Really?” she asked after Ned had laid his cloak down for her to lie on. “Not even a servant girl?”

            “Not even. I saved it all my life for my bride.”

            “I wouldn’t have been upset.”

            “You’ll still always have been my first.”

            Cat laid her head on Ned’s chest and he put his arms around her. They’d never lain in such an intimate position before. They still slept without touching in bed. Ned said nothing about it but Cat couldn’t help wonder if he was disappointed she’d yet to roll over to him. But he only held her hand for a moment every night and then turned on his side and she laid on hers. They held hands again when they woke up and then the day began.

            Now, hearing his heart beat, Cat remembered how she had felt when he’d tied her braid, the tiny touches of his fingertips on her neck. This was even better. His mouth on hers was something she already wanted to be more familiar with. As he continued to hold her, arms so strong but so soft in their touch, she began to wonder what it would be like to roll over to him and whisper in his ear that she was ready. _I was never ready for anyone but Brandon before now. He’s my husband, yes, but I think he might be the one I’m happy to share myself with even if he weren’t._ The thought was putting roots down in her heart and her mind was starting to float with excitement when the sound of the clanging rose from the castle yard.

            He offered her his hand and they hurried back and saw that men were training in the yard. Ned rubbed his chin but said nothing until they were back inside the castle. “A raven?” he asked Maester Luwin, who was tending to the birds.

            “No, my Lord. I think it’s just a feeling the men have, that something’s coming. You know how they are. One only has to give voice to the idea and then the others catch the fever.”

            Ned rubbed his chin again. “Alright. I’ll let them be.”

            When he was back in his study, he sat at his desk and laid a hand across his forehead.

            “Your head is hurting,” Cat said softly. She asked a servant to fetch an herb tea. After he’d brought it and left, Ned drained the cup in one gulp. He winced but took his hand from his head.

            “Cat. Will you come here again?”

            She put her basket of wood down and went to his side. He took both her hands and laid them gently against his forehead. “So much more soothing than my own,” he said softly. Cat’s heart warmed and she couldn’t hold back a sigh when Ned pressed his lips to her fingers. He looked up at her and his eyes, clouded with worry as they were, had a tenderness about them that slowed her breath and then quickened it. “Cat. Sit with me?”

            She closed her eyes and almost hummed as she put one hand on his shoulder and lowered herself into his lap. She reached her other arm around his neck and laid her head against him. He slowly put his arms around her like he’d done in the field, but by his short breaths she could tell that he was laughing softly. She pulled back her head, alarmed.

            “Ned? Did I do something wrong? Is this…is it too much?”

            Ned smiled with his eyes closed and when he opened them, the tenderness in his eyes had increased to something like adoration. “No. I had meant that you could pull up that other chair over there and sit next to me. But this, I have to say, this is all I could ask for in this moment. You surprised me, that’s all. But I’m happy right now.” He paused, seeming unsure, but he nodded once to himself and then touched her hand “You’re a blessing in my life. I’d like you to know that.”

            Cat’s nervous breathing gently found its steady flow again and she laughed a few times too before settling her face in the crook of his neck. “I do feel blessed. I’m more at home here every day. And I feel very close to you right now. And don’t laugh and take me literally!” She pushed him gently as he started to chuckle again. He let the sound fade and pulled her closer.

            “I feel closer to you than to anyone. Does that scare you, me saying that?”

            “No. It’s what I had hoped I could be for you. As your wife, yes, but not just because I was chosen for you. I hope you’re choosing me for myself. Like I am for you.”

            Ned took her braid in his fingers and gently ran them down the length. “The gods themselves don’t know how happy I am.” He pressed his lips to her cheek and she melted. _I think I love him._ She pressed her cheek closer to his lips. _I didn’t try for that thought. It came to me. It was like breathing or blinking._

A knock came at the door and they startled a little. He gave her an apologetic look but she shook her head with a small smile even she reluctantly pushed herself up from his lap. She sat back with her basket as Jory entered and asked about the possibility of men practicing with the war horses. Cat wove a ribbon around her fingers as she blocked out the talk of war.

_He’s leaving soon. I know it._

She ran the ribbon around one of her fingers, and then two. _Tied together. Like we are._

_I know I love him._

_I need to tell him._

***

            Cat woke up the next day to a small bouquet of violets on her pillow. Ned must have been up with the sun, maybe even before. He must have come in so quietly to lay the flowers next to her. Cat had dreamt about Ned on a horse. She didn’t know where he was going, but he had armor on. When she tried to talk to him, he didn’t say he was going to war. But his armor shone so brightly, even in the haze of the dream.

            She put the violets to her face, inhaled the sweetness, and then placed them against her heart. She put them in the sun on the window before she dressed and went down to the great hall.

            Ned wasn’t there. It was really to be expected. If he’d been up so long, he’d have finished his breakfast hours ago. Her ladies surrounded her at the table as she ate, talking about how much sunnier it was every day, how Cat and Ned should bring a picnic lunch outside. Cat swallowed and nodded. She remembered Jory’s words about the men catching the fever of war preparations. _I’ve caught it too, now. My war will be with my worry about Ned when he’s gone._

            She tried to banish the thought but the harder she pushed it away, the more it returned and engulfed her mind. Her stomach gave a sick twist of worry when the clanging of the swords began to echo from outside. She stood up abruptly. “I’m taking a short walk. Only follow me to the bench.” She fetched her wood basket and headed for the forest.

            Cat said a prayer to the trees and then sawed branches off them as fast as she could. Sweat beaded at her temples and she shrugged off her heavy cloak in no time, cutting and cutting until she was nearly up to her shins in ragged branches. When she felt like she’d cut enough, she got on her knees and started carving, bending and shaping the wood until she was weaving strands together and criss-crossing them across the circular frames. She made the small wreaths first. She didn’t know how many soldiers would be accompanying Ned, so she made seven as symbol of her gods. Then she sat cross-legged and worked on the bigger wreaths. One for Lyanna with ribbons and plucked flowers. One for Robert Baratheon with pointed edges like swords. One for Rickard Stark, Ned and Brandon’s father, with ribbons tied in the shape of a direwolf’s head. And one for Brandon himself, swathed in ribbons all over as a sign of her own affection, then and now. _I hope you know I loved you so much,_ she prayed as she finished tying the ribbons and held the wreath fast in both her hands. _I will always remember that love. I love Ned and I hope you understand how important it is to me that I found happiness again after I thought it had all crumbled to pieces. I’m so proud to be his wife. I’m so proud to want to be his wife. I’ll see you again someday. Watch Ned. Please, watch him for me when he’s gone._

***

            Cat left the wreaths beneath the trees she’d carved them from. She carried her basket back to her ladies and they walked back to Winterfell’s main gate. Ned was talking to Maester Luwin, who held a tiny scroll. Cat’s heart smacked against her ribs in fear and she inhaled sharply, dropping her basket. Ned heard her and raced across the yard to her, taking her hands. “You’re leaving for real,” she managed after a dry sob.

            “Shh shh. No. I’m not leaving.” He took her in his arms and held her in front of the whole courtyard, something he’d never done before. “Robert still wants me here.” He lowered his voice and spoke into her ear. “I don’t know if I’m leaving. But it’s not tomorrow.”

            “Soon?”

            “I don’t know. But I’ll be here to bring you flowers tomorrow.”

Cat knew a tear was going to fall from her eye but she smiled into his chest and kept her head tucked under his chin. She didn’t care that the whole yard was watching them. _We’re husband and wife. No one can say anything. Even if they could, I wouldn’t move._

At dinner, Ned forked the sweetest parts of his meat into Cat’s mouth. _Like I’m a queen and he’s proud for everyone to know and see his affection for me._ Cat held back her tears and then forgot about them as Ned reminded her of every inside joke they now shared. They chuckled, almost giggling like children. He tapped her on the nose and whispered, “Bear,” and she had her hand over her mouth, fighting back a heaving laugh. At one point he grabbed for her braid and tried to kiss the end and she did laugh so loudly that half the room went quiet and watched them before slowly picking up their talk again. They were the small household party for now, but as Ned laid her hair back in place, she heard words like “gathering” and “bannermen.” Ned fed her another piece but when he put his fork down, he reached under the table and took her hand. She squeezed it and it took him a moment to squeeze it back. She realized his hand was trembling slightly. He caught her eye and leaned into her ear again. “I might ask you to sit in my lap again later. That was very comforting. I could use that feeling again.”

            “I can do that,” she whispered back. She paused, heart thumping. But she didn’t want to turn away. _Say it now. Before he goes, but because you want him to know it, too._ “And I can do a lot more than that. If you want to. Like I do.”

            He didn’t move away for a few moments and she felt her nerves leap and fray. Was it too soon? He hadn’t loosened his grip on her hand but he hadn’t gripped it any tighter either. Anxiety turned her stomach for a moment, but then he bent over as if to retrieve a fallen utensil. Instead, he swiftly but gently pulled her hand to his chest and laid it over his heart. It was beating as quick a thump as hers was, and she knew the answer as he straightened back up just as someone called for his attention.

            She sat in silent exhilaration as the dinner went on, too excited to eat, to give her ladies more than a perfunctory answer when they asked her questions. She was ready to knock the entire bench over to stand up when everyone finally put their forks and knives down, but Ned rose up and held out a hand for everyone to stay seated. He picked up his goblet. He turned to her and met her eyes. “To my Lady Wife, Catelyn,” he said softly, a tender note in his voice rising with every word. _I could listen to that for hours on end._ Then he raised his voice. “For living in this unsettled, anxious household with incomparable kindness and patience. She doesn’t need to swing a sword to protect me. She only has to walk next to me in all her bravery and grace. May we all learn from her fortitude and take her example in the coming days, and then in all of the days after that.” He held the goblet up to her and then drank.

            “To Lady Stark!” the men intoned. Some of them took a sip and some of them drained their whole goblets but all of them looked at her in wonder. It wasn’t the first time Ned had toasted her – he’d called her “beautiful and worthy” at their wedding feast – but she knew as surely as she’d read his heartbeat that these were words he’d not said because tradition dictated it. This wasn’t a celebratory feast or a going-away feast. It would have been a regular feast on any other night. But tonight it had been a toast to their racing hearts.

***

            They banged the door shut, accidentally opened it, then banged it shut again. Ned covered his mouth and gave her exaggeratedly wide eyes. Cat laughed into his shoulder. _Everyone will know now. Let them. No one else is in this room but him_. She grabbed his tunic and pressed him against her as she leaned up for his mouth. They stumbled back towards the wall but she didn’t let him go. His hands flew around her just in time to keep her back from slamming but she leaned against the wall anyway, not wanting to move to the bed yet, relishing this moment of his mouth and his hands and his warmth. A thought tugged her mind. _Tell him_. _Now_.

            They were deep in a kiss and she had to break it and move her head away from his. He looked startled as he opened his eyes. “Cat…?”

            “Ned. Before we do anything else. I have to tell you. It feels right. I’m not saying this just as your wife, although I’m happy to do that too, but I’m saying this as my own woman. Ned.” She took his face and leaned up again and pressed their foreheads together. A sweet flutter went through her as she said the words. “I love you. I love you for yourself, not just as my husband. I need you to know.”

            Ned pressed his hands against her back and his breathing was unsteady. “Cat. You should step back. I’ll cry in your hair.”

            Cat grasped his shoulders more tightly. “I won’t step back. Cry in my hair.”

            Ned choked a laugh. He really was crying, Cat realized with slight alarm as a tear from his eyes landed against her face. But he’d held her hand over his heart. He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t happy.

            Cat ran her thumb on Ned’s cheekbone and caught the next tear. He breathed in deeply and released the breath over her head as he gathered her against his chest again. “It was all I could ever hope for. More than I thought I could, at one time. I hardened myself to cope from never hearing it from you. I didn’t even give you a chance at the beginning. I decided your feelings for you. ‘She’ll never love me,’ I thought, and I believed myself. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t ever have been decided things of your heart when it was your own to carry through life.”

            Cat ran her hands up and down his back. “But you believe me now, don’t you?”

            “I do. You’d not say it if you didn’t mean it. I love that about you. And I love _you_. I’m only.” He gestured a hand at his face. “This is joy, Cat. I’m a fool but this is joy.”

            “None of that.” Cat took his hand and kissed the palm. “I’d closed my heart too. We both thought it was the only way to survive if this had never happened, this night. If _we_ had never happened. But we have. Ned, we _have_.”

            Ned took her braid from behind her shoulder and kissed the end. “No greater gift than you. Cat. You believe me?”

            She kissed his palm again and then placed it on her cheek. “You only have to say the words.”

            He brought his other palm to her cheek and cradled her face in his hands. “I’d toast you again if I still had that goblet.”

            “Toast me again anyway. No, not like that,” she said as he opened his mouth to speak. “This way.” She pulled his face down into her neck and he kissed it again and again as she sighed again and again. She tilted her head back to expose more of her skin for him to kiss, lifting her leg and wrapping her foot around his calf. She dropped it when he shifted and brought his face close to hers again.

            “Cat. The bed.”

            “Yes.”

            “No, I mean…not the bed. But _bed_.”

            “Yes? We can do this on the bed.”

            “ _Cat._ I mean.” He took his hands from her face and ran one through his hair. “That’s what we’re _supposed_ to do, isn’t it?”

            “Well.” Cat gestured at the wall. “We can stay here for awhile. I’m having a good time.”

            Ned breathed a laugh but kept his hand in his hair. He gazed at her earnestly. “I have to tell you something. It would have embarrassed me earlier, before we were _us_. But I don’t know what I’m doing. Any of this. I’m feeling it out and making it up on the spot. The bed. I don’t know what to do.”

            Cat leaned straighter against the wall, blinking. “You don’t? I’m not making fun of you, I only-”

            “I know you’re not. I mean, I have an idea. But my father didn’t tell me much and I refused to listen to the boys in the yard because I thought them crass. I’d walk away when they started talking. I only know I can lie on top of you. But I don’t know if you’d like that. I don’t know if even _I_ would like that. So I don’t know what to do.” He spread his hands. “There. I said it, finally. I’ve never said that to anyone.”

            Cat touched her braid. She hadn’t either expected this or not expected it, she realized. _Another thing I just assumed._ _He must truly feel comfortable with me. He could have laid me down and I’d have gladly accepted it, but for him to tell me this…he’s holding his bare heart in his hands, holding it out to me._

            “There’s no shame,” she said softly. “No shame at all. You shouldn’t have to know anything. That’s not something that should feel like a weight.”

            “I know you’re right.” He wiped a hand across his forehead. “Gods, it’s a relief to tell someone.”

            “I’m glad you told me. Because now there’s something I can tell _you_. I have some ideas. Here. Undo my braid and I’ll tell you.” She faced the wall and he gently undid the end of her hair. As he separated the strands and combed them out, she smiled, feeling almost mischievous. “It’s like this. A few years ago there was a serious offer for my hand. My father almost accepted it. It fell through, but not before my Uncle Brynden sat me down. Listen. You’ll get a good laugh. He told me everything he could think of that men and women do together.” Ned’s fingers stopped suddenly in her hair. Cat almost giggled, imagining his wide eyes. “He said he didn’t want me robbed of any pleasure in life and that if my husband was dull, I could at least have fun when I needed to. So he explained everything in detail short of making me actual drawings. He was the most worldly person in that sense, even though he’d never done any of the things himself.”

            “He hadn’t?”

            Cat did look behind her shoulder that time. “Ned, he rejected twenty-five marriage proposals. _Twenty-five._ ” She watched as he connected the pieces.

            “I… _oh_. The _Black_ fish of House Tully. No marrying. I understand.”

            “Yes. But he knew everything anyway. So we’re not adrift tonight.” She tapped her temple and Ned smiled, almost laughing again. He turned her body gently to face him again, curtaining her hair around her shoulders, running strands through his fingers.

            “What would you like to do?” he whispered.

            “Uncle said that kissing was a good start. So we’re already doing well. And something else helps.”

            “Yes?”

            “A certain lack of clothes.” She couldn’t say it with a straight face and burst out laughing as he buried his face in his hands before she pulled them away from him and had her back turned again and he was untying the laces of her dress. He was kicking out of his boots at the same time and he fumbled desperately with her laces, cursing the knots he made. As she tossed her own shoes away with her toes, she found that she didn’t much care if he’d knotted the laces permanently. When he’d gotten far enough down the lace panel, she pulled down her sleeves and twisted out of the top of her gown until it fell just above her breasts. Then she went to work on his own laces and they both laughed at the mess she made of his hair by pulling his tunic over his head too roughly.

            It was so hot in the room but Cat relished it. Ned’s steward had lit a fire for them beforehand and Cat basked in its warmth, soaking it all into her skin. Ned’s skin was red and then shadowed and then red again in the flicker of the flames. She wanted to lean down and kiss his bare chest right where they were standing until she noticed the fur rug in front of the grate and she had a new idea. She put her hands on Ned’s chest and pushed him gently backwards and onto the rug. “Lie back,” she whispered, and he gazed at her with wonder in his eyes. They looked a little fevered too, but he smiled up at her and held her eyes as he laid his head back and didn’t move away from the fire.

            They kissed on the lips for a few more moments while Cat ran her hands over his chest, feeling the rise and fall. _The warm body of the man I love. No greater glory right now._ She unwound her hair from his fingers and threw it behind her back as she sat up, straddling him. He leaned up and pressed kisses to her collarbones. She tingled all over, nerves feeling more alight and hotter than the fire could ever hope to burn. His soft lips and the slight roughness of his stubble almost undid her then and there. Feeling fevered herself, she tapped his hands and then the waist of her dress. He looked up at through his kisses, as if asking _Are you sure?_ She raised her chin and smiled with her eyes closed.

            _Yes._

            Her dress thrown aside, she held his head against her chest as he kissed the tops of her breasts, then stroked them before placing his hands over both. Her breath hitched and she threaded her fingers through his hair with one hand, the other tracing the back of his neck and down along his shoulder blades. He hummed into her skin and she hummed back and they were laughing softly again. _We keep laughing in harmony._ When he took his hands from her breasts, she pulled his face back against her chest with one hand and leaned back on the other. The heat on her bare body and his mouth on her skin made her feel freer and bolder than she’d ever been. _Naked and only for him._ He held her with one hand and ran the other down the whole length of her curved back, then over her thigh. She was starting to ache in a way she’d never felt, wanting his body and not wanting to wait any longer. She ran her hands down his sides and tapped the top of his pants. She had to turn on her side and help him push them down and off his legs. He murmured something about “work is getting hard” that had her heaving laughter into his shoulder again. He pressed his forehead against hers again, saying nothing now but holding the moment. She held it with him and he found her mouth again. He touched the tip of his tongue ever so softly to hers and that was all it took for her to burn with the ache and lay him back on the rug.

            It was so easy, so natural. She felt her spirit so open, as bare as a cloud free sky, that her body mirrored it and she had no trouble guiding him inside her. _Gods be good_ , she thought as he put his palms up and she laced her fingers through his as she moved up and down for the first time. Her head fell back. _Every day for the rest of my life. I want this with him. Again and again and…_

            She brought her head back up and then moved it over his, her hair falling in a new pattern on his face as she moved a little faster every few moments. His eyes were closed and he made no move to shake her hair off, which touched her in a way she hadn’t expected. When he opened his eyes and saw her looking at him, his unguarded smile sent her heart soaring. She asked the question with her eyes. _Happy?_

 _Overjoyed._ He nipped at a strand of her hair and she grinned before the haze of pleasure began to wrap more tightly around her. She pushed back up on his hands and he held her steady as she rolled her hips. His own were rising off the ground and she gasped as he touched the spot inside her that she’d always dreamed her future husband would be able to do. She clenched his hands harder, probably leaving fingernail half-moons on the backs of his hands, but he kept his fingers firmly laced through hers. The ache was spreading and building in her and she rose up and moved down faster and harder. She knew she was moaning but she couldn’t hear herself as her mind and body knew only rapture. It was like a wave rolling and breaking, smashing itself willingly apart as the ache turned into ecstasy and the heightened sweetness broke the highest peak and flooded her and she felt pure and full and likely to weep at how beautiful he made her feel when he gently unthreaded their fingers and kissed her face. As he brought her down gently to the furs, his lips were on her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks, her chin.

Her breath was still heaving but she kissed him back on the cheeks and soon they were knocking noses in their desperation to kiss each other’s’ faces. She grinned, her pulse still throbbing, and he pushed her hair out of her eyes, laughing a soft noise. He looked like he’d been running, his whole body sheened in sweat and his hands unsteady as he moved to comb one through his hair. _How did he feel in that moment?_

“Did you? Too…?”

“Yes. Oh yes.” He smiled through a ragged breath. “Only a moment after you, I think. Your face in such pleasure, it tipped me over.”

Cat felt satisfied in a way she’d never dreamed. _I gave the moment back to him._ “Good. Better than good, actually. To have shared that…” She trailed off and never finished her sentence but he nodded as he settled beside her and she tucked away the lock of hair that fell in his face as he put his head close to hers.

They lay in silence for a time, Cat toying with the lock of his hair and Ned stroking the back of her hand as she did so. When he finally spoke, his voice was throaty and soft. “You’re everything.”

“Everything?” Her own voice matched his note for note.

“Yes. Everything. I can’t explain it…just everything. Do you know what I mean?”

She felt something bloom in her chest. “The whole world?” she asked tentatively.

“That’s it. Yes. The whole world that I can see and every part I can’t. My whole world. All of it. It’s you, Cat. Everything that I might be, I hope you’ll take it. I don’t know how much it is. But I hope you’ll have it.”

The blooming feeling almost put tears in her eyes again. “I will. It’s the highest honor I can think of.”

“I want to take new vows.”

“What?”

“New vows. With you. Not marriage vows. Just…vows. Of love. Give me some time to think of them. Just a little. My mind is a bit scattered, still. You gave it a good spin.”

Cat smiled into his eyes. “New vows. You already wrote the first one.”

“I did?” He searched her face.

She put her hand over his heartbeat. “You sent me a message in the hall. That was an ‘I love you.’ That was as strong as a vow. I’ll keep my hand here and you’ll tell me some more, how’s that?”

He stopped searching and only gazed at her. That tenderness she adored kindled in his eyes. He held both of his hands over hers and pressed them to his chest. She thrilled as she felt his heart speed up again. “Listen, then. I have a lot to tell you. You might be here awhile.”

***

            Even in full armor, Ned held her so tenderly, so like she loved, that she squeezed her eyes shut and felt into natural place against his body. She’d been teaching one of her ladies how to carve when he’d thundered into the room, the scroll half torn in his fingers. One look in his eyes and she’d known.

            “Robert found her.”

            “He thinks he knows where she is. He’s almost certain of it.”

            _Then you have to go. The war has called you._

            “Don’t get up,” Cat had said vaguely to her lady. _I’ll only be a few moments,_ she almost whispered as Ned had dropped the shreds of parchment and taken her hand. But her voice had failed her and it was all she could do to keep up with him as they raced down into the yard. She’d fiddled with the end of her braid, woven by Ned not an hour before, as a boy had helped him into full and heavy plate.

            “The banners have sent word. They’ll meet you at the end of the road.” Maester Luwin holding a different scroll. Cat had turned her eyes away as the raven flew back in the direction it’d come from. _Dark wings, dark words._ Nothing seemed to ring true at that moment, not the horses, the men gathering, the shouts and the noise and so much noise. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed as she’d kept her eyes on Ned, finally armored and pointing and raising his voice and motioning and speaking to someone else and then his horse was being led to him and she only felt awake again when he reached for her.

             He kissed the top of her head now, gently swaying her in his arms. When he pulled back, he took her shoulders gently in his armor-gloved ones. “Cat.”

            “I know.”

            _I thought of something else,_ Ned had whispered to her when they’d finally risen from the rug and were lying in the bed, the sheets warm from the heat of their bodies. _A vow I want to make. We were talking about walking down a path together. That second day of our marriage. I vow to always be on that path with you, Cat, if you want me there. I vow that whenever I’m away from you, I’m still walking back toward you down that same path. If we’re torn apart and my body is moving in one direction and yours is here, my whole soul is walking back toward you even with every step I take forward. I’ll be away, probably soon. We know that. We won’t speak of it again tonight. But even now, just lying down with you, I’m on the path and I’m walking with you, next to you if you’ll have me. And you don’t even have to see me all the time for the path to still exist. You’ll be annoyed with me at times, I’ve no doubt. All husbands get annoying at some point or another. No, you can laugh, but I’m serious. You can shut the door on me any time. Rest on the path whenever you want, Cat. Tell me to slow down or stop. And when you want me again, give me a signal, and then I’m up again. And then I’m back to you. I vow it. Will you accept my vow?_

“Always walk back to me, Ned.” Her vision of him blurred as her eyes grew foggy with tears. By the slight tremble of his hands on her arms, she knew he was on the verge of crying too. He swept her to him for one more kiss and he mouthed _on my vow, I love you_ , against her lips and then she clung to his hand as long as she could before he was on his horse and his eyes were on hers until he was out of the gate.

            She swallowed and the sobs shook her body before the rest of the men had pounded out the gate behind Ned. One of her ladies was by her side with a handkerchief and a whisper in her ear. “Strong, my Lady. For the child, if we’re right, and I think we are. For your husband. For yourself.”

            Cat nodded as she wiped the cloth down her cheeks. “Strong.” She folded the handkerchief and tucked it in a pocket. “He’s coming back.”

            _I accept your vow, Ned._

            _It’s all I could ask for._

            _I accept it with everything I have. And more important-_ a lingering soft kiss and then her head back on his chest _– I’m giving you everything I have too, because I want to. I want you to have all of my everything. All of my world. So take it with you when you go._

_And then come back to me._

 

           

           

           

 

**Author's Note:**

> I differed from canon in a few ways, including reducing Catelyn's and Lysa's double wedding to Catelyn's single one, taking liberties with how long Ned was with Catelyn before he left for war (two weeks in the books, longer in my story), and having Catelyn and Ned fall in love before Ned left.


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